Prison of Perfection
by jamiewaskel
Summary: Will one woman's desperate need for revenge against Castle tear Beckett away from him? Can he get to her before she's been pushed too far toward perfection and chooses to change for good? Follows the events of Disciple (6x09). A winter ficathon 13/14 entry, prompt one.
1. Prologue

_This picks up a few weeks after Disciple (6x09). I'm looking at about 10 chapters. _

* * *

Prologue

She awoke with a start. The bed beside her was cold; the room still dark save for the soft glow of the street light filtering in through the window as it reflected off the steadily falling snow. She pushed her arm out to smooth over the empty expanse of sheets trying to recall the warmth and strength of the body that used to lie there.

Even after a year, she still reaches for him, rolls toward where he should be. In that time between sleep and wakefulness, she forgets, and when her mind fully enters consciousness her heart breaks all over again.

She remembers everything like it was yesterday.

He had been executing his plan to take down that worthless author. Spending almost every waking moment planning; calculating every move he would make. He'd sat for hours hunched over their desk researching locations and techniques; studying surveillance photos with a concentration she'd never seen in him before.

She'd loved it when he got like that. In the midst of plotting and planning, taking and destroying, everything between them was heightened, so much more powerful. Even bordering on violent. He'd often needed a stress relief and that had translated to late night romps between the sheets of this very bed. Or rough encounters against the shower walls or the occasional mid-day meeting in other areas of their apartment.

Their future had been set out perfectly in front of them, all Jerry had to do was eliminate Richard Castle and then they could move on to a new chapter of their lives.

And that's when it all fell apart.

He had left her that night. Said he was taking care of one last detail, the final piece of the puzzle that would put this all behind them. They'd planned that, once it was complete, he would come back here, and they would finish packing; be gone before sunrise. Yet her phone had rang at half past two in the morning, and she'd instantly known something had gone awry.

It had been him on the other end, telling her things had gone wrong, yet he was still optimistic that they could get away. Ultimately, his plan had failed.

He'd had fallen 100 feet into the Hudson River after one last attempt to salvage his plan; had been shot and was currently waiting for her behind a local convenience store.

She'd been out the door in minutes, racing across the city to get to him. Her heart had pounded faster with every mile traveled; blood had rushed in her ears downing out the traffic noise. By the time she'd arrived he was already unconscious, suffering from what looked to be severe blood loss and hypothermia.

He'd torn a ragged strip from his soaked shirt and had tied it around his arm in an attempt to stem the flow of blood, but the cold had affected him more than she'd expected. More than she'd hoped. She had taken a moment to suppress the push of hot tears, and then had dragged his limp body across the black sea of pavement and into the backseat of her car.

They'd made it back to the apartment in record time thanks to the empty, early morning city streets. He'd still been unconscious in the backseat, so she'd sat there for just a moment watching his chest rise and fall in rough, short cycles trying to decide what to do. There was no way she would be able to get him upstairs on her own so she'd run in to grab some blankets, a first aid kit, and warm, dry clothes.

Back in the car she'd turned the heat up to full blast and had stripped his shirt off to locate the gun shot wound. Fortunately, it had turned out to only be a deep graze that she'd been able to clean easily and stitch up.

She'd removed the rest of his clothes and her own before she'd laid her body over his and then had pulled a wool blanket up over them both. The feel of his icy skin against hers had made her shiver but she'd stayed put in an effort to share her body heat.

For two hours she'd kept her fingers against his neck feeling for a pulse. It was weak and irregular but still there.

He'd finally stirred. She didn't know it yet but too much internal damage had already been done for her to save him. The next two days had consisted of her force-feeding him soup, monitoring his irregular heartbeat, and pumping him full of broad-stream antibiotics.

In spite of her efforts, he'd still developed pneumonia and an infection at the wound site from the filthy river water. She'd discovered later that the section of river he had fallen into was notorious for an overabundance of antibiotic resistant bacteria.

When he'd entered the water, the tear in his flesh had exposed his blood supply to an onslaught of germs. One complication had developed after another and, despite all her efforts, his body had slowly and painfully given up on him.

A little over a week later she fell asleep next to his barely breathing body and woke up next to his lifeless form.

Even now, lying in their bed alone, 390 long days later, she could clearly picture him moving through the bedroom, grinning at her from the desk as he'd told her about his visions for their future, holding her at the window as they'd watched the world go by. The pain of his loss never stopped, never let her go, and she was slowly drowning in it.

She sighed, rolled from the bed, and winced as her bare toes hit the cold floor. She moved toward the window like a moth to flame and watched as the snow gently fell from the sky. Taunting her with its simplicity, its predictability.

"First snow of the season," she whispered to herself, as she wrapped her arms around her middle. "It's late this year."

She allowed herself just a moment to stand there dreaming about what could have been, what should have been before she pushed those thoughts away and turned her back on the outside world.

As they always did, the images tacked to the wall above her desk called to her.

Her heart filled with the familiar anger and hatred, feelings she had come to welcome over the last year, as she glanced at Richard's smiling face. He was walking arm-in-arm with his partner through Central Park, sitting across from her at Remy's, making goo-goo eyes at another crime scene. In each photo he was happy. He was in love.

It was disgusting. Like a knife straight through her heart, and every time she took a new picture, that knife twisted just a little bit more. She shifted her focus to the writer's companion and felt some of the tension ease off her shoulders.

Kate was so beautiful, so fascinating. Commanding the attention of everyone she passed; it was no wonder he followed her around like a lost puppy. What she couldn't understand was why Kate kept him around?

No matter. She would be setting Kate free soon enough.

The plan was easy. Coming together little by little. She reached for the after surgery photos of Samuel Cory and knew she'd done the job well. He was now the spitting image of Richard Castle and he was already putty in her hands, ready to do her bidding however and whenever she wanted. Today he was having lunch with Rebecca Franklin, a beautiful blonde that he was going to wine and dine over the next week, and it would give her the jump start needed to put her plan into action.

Weeks of planning were finally over. She was going to show Kate Beckett how much of her life and potential she was wasting on that writer; that waste of space.

She picked up the pen sitting next to her computer and traced over the letters printed on the side with her fingertip. _Dr. Kelly Nieman_. Before long she'd be shedding that identity, but first she had to free Kate from her self-imposed prison and destroy Richard Castle once and for all. It was time to avenge Jerry's death and make Rick pay for what he had taken from her.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

_Special thanks to Kylie for holding my hand and squeezing all these words out of me. It's her fault my first fic is seeing the light of day. 3_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She awoke with a start. The room dark and quiet. Her eyes slowly blinked as she took in the expanse of empty sheets. The faint impression his head had left on the pillow. Her arm snaked across the bed as her fingers smoothed over the spot where he should have been. Still warm; he hadn't been gone long. She rolled onto her back, scrubbing the sleep from her eyes when she caught his outline against the windows.

"Castle," she murmured, her voice rough and deep with sleep. "What are you doing awake?"

He jumped. Her words an unexpected surprise and he turned away from the window to face her. A soft smile adorned his lips as he reached a hand out to her, beckoning her to him. "Come here, Kate."

She briefly considered telling him he was crazy before turning over to go back to sleep but something in his expression stopped her. There was a child-like excitement twinkling in his blue eyes so she slipped from the bed and joined him at the window. He threaded his fingers through her hair, dusting a kiss across her cheek before he tucked her into the cove of his body, her back to his front. His chin lowered to rest on her shoulder. "It's the first snow of the season. I got excited."

"It's late this year," she huffed, trying to hide her amusement at his enthusiasm.

Her fingers snaked up over his cheek, through the hair at his nape and he nuzzled deeper into the space between her neck and shoulder. His arms tightened around her waist, drawing her body closer to his. "Better late than never I always say."

Kate's surprised laugh shook them both. "You always say that, huh?" she asked while turning to look at him over her shoulder.

"Of course. Look at us. Better late than never." He paused to read her expression before adding, "You know I'm right."

She hummed a subtle agreement and turned back to the window. "It's so beautiful, Castle."

"You're so beautiful, Kate. How did I get so lucky?"

She wrinkled her nose as she turned in the circle of his arms; his limitless supply of compliments still occasionally hard for her to accept. She stood on the tips of her toes to push her lips against his. The kiss was soft, sweet, and slow just like the three am snowfall outside their window. She kissed him again. Once, twice, before moving up to nibble on his earlobe. Her warm breath fanned across his neck as she whispered, "Come on, Rick. Back to bed. I want my fill of you before you leave me for three weeks."

"Your fill of me?" he asked, sounding slightly affronted.

"Touché. Even after all this time I'll never get enough of you. But let's give it our best shot anyway," she purred as she turned away from him. She threw a wink over her right shoulder before pulling her sleep shirt up over her head, and he stood there, admiring her naked body before jumping into gear, almost tripping over his own feet as he followed her to the bed.

* * *

The next time Kate woke, bright streams of sunlight had invaded the room. She was alone in bed but a steaming mug of coffee greeted her from the bedside table.

Voices floated in from the living room letting her know that Rick was with Martha; probably enjoying breakfast together. Martha had been busy with her acting school recently so Kate wasn't surprised Rick was taking this time to connect with his mother.

She rolled over to bury her face in his pillow and inhaled deeply. It smelled like ink and leather. Like home. The scent was so strong, so inherently _him,_ that her heart skipped a beat.

God, she was going to miss him.

_Deadly Heat_ had been out for just over two months, so he was going on a three week, New England book tour in time for the holidays. When Paula had originally suggested the idea, Castle had begged Kate to take time off and come with him, but she'd already put in her vacation request for their Christmas getaway in the Hamptons. She couldn't have both. Castle had tried to back out of the tour but Kate had managed to convince him they would both survive the separation unscathed. Then, when he got home, they would have all the alone time they wanted.

Deciding it was time to get up; Kate slipped from between the sheets, grabbed her coffee, and headed into the bathroom. While waiting for the shower to warm up, she took a sip from the mug, savoring the sweet vanilla flavor, and then left it on the counter. She stepped under the spray letting the hot water soak into her skin, the steamy tendrils wrapping around her body, slowly easing her into full wakefulness.

Suddenly, a blast of cold air washed over her body and made her shiver. She turned to see what was going on when a solid, warm body enveloped her and pushed her up against the shower wall. Castle dipped his head and covered her mouth with his own while his hands wandered over the planes and curves of her body. She growled into his mouth before lifting her legs, coiling them around his waist, and letting him wipe her mind of any coherent thought.

* * *

When she emerged from the bedroom, dressed and ready for work, carrying her empty coffee mug, she found him nursing a fresh, steaming cup and reading the morning paper. He turned and smiled when he spotted her moving toward him.

"More coffee?" he asked as he jumped up to grab her breakfast out of the oven where it had been warming.

"I'd love some," Kate answered as she snuck a sip from his mug while sliding hers across the counter. She winked at him when he caught her and sent an indignant glare over his shoulder.

He leaned over the counter to kiss her cheek while he set her plate in front of her. "You're stealing my coffee even though I slaved all morning over a hot stove to make you this delicious breakfast? How could you, Kate?" Castle treated her to the brilliant, toothy grin he reserved only for her, before he grabbed her mug and turned back to the coffee pot to fill it up. He dropped it next to her plate on the marble countertop on his way around the island to sit with her while she ate.

"Thank you." She placed a quick kiss on his lips and then dove into her plate of food. "So catch me up. How's your mother been? I heard her out here before I jumped in the shower."

"Good, good. She's upstairs getting ready to head back to the school. I guess she has some costume fittings today and then an afternoon of rehearsals. Are you sure you two will be alright with me gone for so long? She's a lot to handle when it has to be done alone."

"Castle, we'll be fine. You know I love your mother," Kate said as her phone started ringing from the bedroom. She got up to go answer it. "Besides, I'm a cop," she threw over her shoulder as she walked away. "What could possibly happen?"

In the bedroom, she grabbed the obnoxiously loud device and checked the caller ID. "Hey Espo. What's up?"

"Got a body, boss. I'll text you the address."

"Sounds good. I'll meet you there." She hung up, grabbed a coat and scarf out of the closet, and stepped into her favorite black stilettos. Her phone dinged with Espo's text on her way back to the kitchen.

"Gotta go, babe. I've got a body."

"No," he whined. "You didn't even get to finish your breakfast."

She shoveled a few more bites down and chugged the rest of her coffee. "Better?" she asked, giving him a sweet smile as he sat there pouting. "Walk me to the door?"

Rick grumbled then stood and grabbed the coat from her. At the door he held the dark green wool open while she slipped her arms in the silk-lined sleeves. She shivered as his fingers ghosted along her neck on his way to pulling her loose brown curls out from under the collar. He pushed her hair over her left shoulder and leaned in to place a gentle kiss along the exposed side of her neck; just behind her ear.

"I'll call you when I get back to my hotel after the signing tonight. Should be around nine or ten."

She turned in his embrace and found herself eye to eye with him thanks to her four-inch heels. Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck and she leaned her forehead against his. "I look forward to it." She nuzzled her nose against his, "I'm going to miss you, Castle. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Of course, Kate. You do the same. Love you."

"Love you." She wrapped her arms tight around him and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent and placing an open mouthed kiss on his collarbone, softly touching her tongue to the stretch of skin.

He pulled back from her slightly, placing two fingers below her chin, and lifted up so he could reach her mouth. "Have a good day at work, Kate. I'll talk to you tonight."

She savored his taste, coffee and Castle, two of her favorite things, and then stepped out of his embrace. He held the door open as she stepped through and headed toward the elevator. She blew him one final kiss before the doors closed and the elevator descended to the lobby.

And so it began. Three weeks. Three weeks without him. Three weeks left until their Christmas holiday. She could do this.

* * *

_Thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and beautiful reviews. It means so much to me that you are enjoying this. _

_Special thanks to Kylie for turning this into something people might want to read and keeping me entertained when I'm up at three am with my son. xoxo_


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

His flight landed on a snowy tarmac in Hartford, CT at one-thirty in the afternoon. The storm clouds had cleared early, and it allowed the bright rays of sunlight to reflect off the white ground, temporarily blinding him when he looked out the window. While taxing down the runway, his hand tapped impatiently as he waited for his phone to boot up. Forcing his eyes closed, Castle's head settled against his seat and he let his mind wander back to this morning.

After Kate had left for work, he had finished packing for his trip before picking up around the loft. Knowing his fiancée's tendency to ignore her stomach, he'd ventured out into the fresh snowfall to stock up on food supplies that she could turn into quick and easy meals. On impulse, he had also stopped at a local body shop to replenish her collection of bath salts, essential oils, and candles.

Back in the apartment, he'd stood in the doorway to his bedroom looking at her side of the bed and had sighed. It was going to be a long three weeks without her to come home to at the end of every day but she was right, as usual. This was his job and they would have plenty of time together over her holiday vacation.

He had changed out of his Batman t-shirt and into a more formal maroon button-down. She was always stealing his recently worn t-shirts to lounge in so he'd placed this one neatly folded on her pillow, ready for when she got home from work.

His phone finally booted up and then dinged with a new text message and a new voicemail. The noise pulled him out of his reverie and he checked the text from Kate first.

_Hey babe. Hope you made it ok. Miss you already. xx_

He smiled softly to himself wondering, again, how he'd been so lucky to have Kate return his affections, and went about replying.

_Just landed in CT. Love you. Call when I can. x, R_

He listened to the voicemail next and rolled his eyes when Paula's nasally voice came through the speaker. She was calling to remind him for the thousandth time that he needed to be at the Barnes & Noble on Isham Road, West Hartford by four-thirty or she was going to have his head. He deleted the message and typed out another text letting her know he was stopping by his hotel to change and drop off his bag first and then he'd be there.

* * *

The afternoon passed by in a complete whirlwind.

He had breezed through the doors of the bookstore at four-fifteen and barely had enough time to say hello to Paula before a sharpie was pushed into his hand and he was unceremoniously shoved into a cheap plastic chair to begin signing books.

Each fan was the same. _You're my favorite author. I'm your number one fan! Where do you get all your ideas? You're so much sexier in person. I forgot my book at home so can you sign my chest instead? _He used to love that last one. All the women that would throw themselves at his feet were such a welcome ego boost, but, now that he had Kate, these women just seemed desperate and sad. He let them down easy, though, had Paula grab a book for him to sign instead, and then sent them on their way. _Thanks for coming. It's great to see you. Enjoy the book. _

It was all so very _repetitive_.

Now that's not to say he didn't appreciate his fans. After all, without them, he'd have nothing except a stack of pages that no one but him would ever read. He'd be nothing.

Worst of all, without his fans he wouldn't have Kate.

So, yes, he appreciates them. He loves seeing them. It's just that sitting in this chair, signing the same book over and over, and hearing the same phrases from each person had started to weigh on him after a while. So, when the last person in line walked away he breathed out a sigh of relief.

As he looked down at his watch he caught the time – eight pm. Kate should be home by now and he was dying to hear her voice. Moving through the book aisles, he found Paula in a head-to-head with Gina about tomorrow's plans. He debated with himself just for a second, it would be easier to slink away and avoid them, but he stepped forward, let them know that he was going back to the hotel for the night. They acknowledged him with nothing more than a flip of their hands now that his duty was complete, so he turned for the front doors.

Striding purposefully out of the bookstore, he stepped into the chilly night air and took a look around. Twinkling lights blinked at him from store windows and holiday wreathes decorated almost every front door. The sky was clear and dark; wind whipped around his ears, and brought with it the scent of roasting chestnuts to his nose. He paused on the front step burrowing deeper into his wool peacoat to ward off the chill.

Deciding to take a short walk to explore the area he turned left and then had to weave around a couple and their two laughing children. He stopped for a moment, a smile dancing across his face as he admired the adorable family.

The father was holding his daughter's hand tightly while she tried to spin in circles like a ballerina. His other hand was wrapped around several shopping bags bursting with Christmas purchases. The mother was busy wrangling a young boy. He couldn't have been more than three but he was using all his strength to drag her down the sidewalk intent on moving them faster. The couple shared a look over their children's heads; a look filled with wonder, love, and joy.

Castle watched the family wondering if he and Kate would have that some day. Having another child was something he had always wanted but it wasn't something he was willing to risk; not without a stable partner. Meredith had obviously been a terrible choice and Gina had never been willing to sacrifice her body, however temporarily, for their baby. So he'd put everything he had into raising Alexis, letting her know just how much he loved her, and the idea of more children was placed on the back burner.

But with Kate the option was finally open to him again. Kate was a constant, his partner in every way. There was no doubt in his mind that if they were to have children together, she would be as committed to them and to him as she was to every other passion in her life.

Suddenly, he desperately needed to hear her voice. He pulled out his phone and dialed before he even realized what he was doing.

It rang and rang and rang and finally her voicemail picked up. Sighing, he said, "Hey, Kate. I uh – damn, I thought you'd pick up. Must still be at work. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I'm heading back to my hotel so just call me when you get home. Or I'll try you again in a bit. Love you, Kate."

* * *

When Beckett arrived at the crime scene the twin grim faces of Ryan and Esposito greeted her. "Guys, what's up? Why do you look like that?" she asked as she pushed past them. She shivered as the wind picked up suddenly, rustling her hair.

"Beckett, we don't just have one body." Espo answered her.

She stopped and turned to face them. "What do you mean?" She studied both their expressions and braced herself for what looked to be bad news.

Ryan took a deep breath before saying, "We don't just have one body. There are three." He paused. Beckett opened her mouth to say something but he beat her to it. "Beckett, they're all children. Lanie said they're all under the age of thirteen."

"Shit." No wonder they were looking at her like that. Cases with murdered kids were always harder to manage. Harder to compartmentalize. She looked down at her feet to take a moment, to harden her Detective Beckett mask and then glanced back up at the boys. "Then get to work. Let's find this bastard. Espo, give me the facts."

She turned from them both and moved toward Lanie who was kneeling by the bodies, knowing they would both follow.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

She leaned against her desk staring at the three smiling faces on her murder board. Anna, Christopher, and Natalie Baker had been asleep in their beds the last time their parents had seen them. Somehow, between their eight pm bedtime the night before and their four am time of death this morning, they'd been pulled from their home on the Upper West Side, murdered in an undisclosed location, and then dumped in a back alley in Midtown.

Earlier in the day, Beckett had met with the children's parents in their home, to let John and Sara Baker know the tragedy that had befallen them. They were both absolutely devastated and Beckett had walked away from the meeting feeling completely drained emotionally. How do you tell two parents that they will never hold their babies again without being affected? Leaving their house, she had promised herself that she would do everything in her power to bring justice and closure to the family.

She again looked over the evidence spread across the board, desperately wishing for something to jump out at her. Some connection to show itself. The bullpen had slowly emptied without her noticing, desk lamps were turned off, conversations had faded away.

"Hey, Beckett?"

So lost in her thoughts, she started at the sound of Esposito's voice. "Yeah, Espo. Sorry, what did you say?"

"Oh, uh, Ryan and I were just wondering… Well it's pretty late. Almost midnight. Lanie's report won't be ready until tomorrow and we've got nothing to go on right now. Maybe…maybe it's time to call it a night? Start fresh in the morning?"

Beckett looked at her watch and back up at the board before answering, "Yeah, you guys head home. Get some sleep and be back here at seven."

"What about you, Beckett? You need to go home, too." He paused, his eyes searching her face, "Hey you talk to Castle yet? He left on his book tour today, right?"

"Oh…yeah. It's midnight? He should have called me by now." She started rummaging through the papers on her desk looking for her phone; found it shoved between a blank warrant request and her preliminary notes from the scene. "Shit it's dead. No wonder I haven't heard it," she said to herself as she went to plug it into the charger.

Having drifted over to his own desk, Esposito watched as he organized all his notes and reports, ready to be locked away for the night. "Beckett, plug it in at home. It's time to go."

She stopped. Paused for a moment to consider his words. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I have a car charger. I'll just plug it in while I drive home." She gathered her coat and bag, found her keys, and headed toward the elevator, joining the boys.

They were quiet and withdrawn from each other during the descent to the garage. This case was already sitting heavily on their shoulders and Kate couldn't help but be jealous that they each had someone to go home to tonight, someone to share the oppressive burden.

In the garage, she murmured a quiet goodbye and reminded the pair to be back at seven the next morning before she broke from them and moved to her own unit.

As she sat there waiting for her phone to boot up, she yawned, her fatigue suddenly hitting her like a ton of bricks. She leaned back against the headrest of her seat and closed her eyes.

A ding signaling her voicemail abruptly broke the silence; three voicemails, all from Castle. She sighed and hit play.

_Hey, Kate. I uh – damn, I thought you'd pick up. Must still be at work. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I'm heading back to my hotel so just call me when you get home. Or I'll try you again in a bit. Love you, Kate._

_Hey. Uh, it's ten. Are you still at work? Must be some case. Call me when you get this, okay? Love you. _

_Kate, you're starting to make me worry a little bit. It's eleven-thirty. Where are you? _

She called up her text messages to shoot him a quick one before heading home.

_Hey, sorry my phone died and I didn't realize. Heading home now, I'll call when I get in bed. xoxo_

The car was out on the empty street, pointed toward the Soho loft when her phone dinged with his answering message. She left it, knowing what it was going to say, reading only when she stepped into the elevator at Castle's building.

_Thank god. I was getting ready to call the boys demanding to know what was going on. _

* * *

Twenty minutes later she had slipped on his Batman t-shirt, pulling the collar up over her nose to inhale his musky scent while she sank between the sinfully soft sheets. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she grabbed her phone and dialed his number.

He answered before the first ring was complete. "Kate? Hey." He sounded breathless, like he'd been worried, desperately waiting for her, and his lungs were receiving their first full breath in hours.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Long day?"

"Yeah." She closed her eyes, letting his voice soothe her tired body, relaxing her tense muscles, until she was a limp pile of skin and bones in their bed.

"How was the case?"

"Three kids – siblings – under thirteen. No leads yet."

"Oh, Kate."

"Yeah." She paused hoping he would take the hint that she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. "Sorry I missed you earlier. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're okay."

She hummed quietly, "Mmm, I'm good. Miss you, though. The bed's cold, precinct is too quiet."

His rich, gentle laugh came through the phone before he answered, "I miss you, too, love. You want me to let you go? Let you get some sleep?"

"No!" Her eyes shot back open. Then, quieter, she continued, "No. Not yet. I just – tell me about your day? How was the signing?"

He started spinning the story, teasing her with descriptions of all the women who had been hitting on him, coaxing her out of the darkness of this case. Encouraging her smile and her laughter to make an appearance. Then he told her about his walk, his people watching, the little coffee shop he had found that served "the best chai tea I've ever tasted, Beckett." She closed her eyes again, listening to the quiet baritone of his voice, only half-hearing his words. Somewhere around his description of the magic shop he had run across, she started to drift out of consciousness.

The last thing she heard before sleep took over was, "Sleep well, Kate. I love you, always."

* * *

_Thank you for all your follows, favorites, and beautiful reviews. I'm so glad to know you are enjoying this._

_And thank you to Kylie, my fic writing rock, for keeping me sane and talking me out of the confused circles I tend to work myself into. xoxo_


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Two weeks had passed since Castle had left for his book tour and his absence continued to frustrate Beckett, her ache for him escalating as each day went by. Between his schedule and her case, the phone calls they'd shared were brief, squeezed into short breaks during their days or plagued by their respective exhaustion as the moon sat high in the sky. She has lost count of the number of times she'd fallen asleep during one of their late night chats.

Today, she has spent all morning at her desk, running through her notes and witness statements for the Baker family again, looking for something, anything that would point to a suspect. They had money but no unusual activity in their financials and no obvious enemies. They were good people, worked hard for what they had, respected others. By all accounts they were the perfect American family so there was no reason for these kids to be dead.

Kate leaned back in her chair and breathed out a heavy sigh. She ran her fingers through her hair, tugging lightly on the ends, using the subtle pain to help her focus. This case was slowly driving her crazy.

The clock on her computer screen read eleven-thirty, and she looked around the busy bullpen. Everyone was running around getting things done while she sat, stuck in limbo; this mystery was refusing to unravel for her and the weight of it all was beginning to bear down on her already tense shoulders.

Her eyes flitted over Castle's empty chair. Last night she had tried running theory with him over the phone but he was too far removed from the case to be much help. Not to mention he'd had to be in the studio for a television interview in Montpelier, VT at four in the morning, then he was off to catch a flight to Concord, NH.

A small sigh escaped. She only had a slim chance of getting him today as well; once in Concord he was scheduled for a reading and signing for most of this afternoon and evening. All of his continual running around was leaving him dead on his feet and on the phone yesterday, his CIA theory had been half-hearted at best and he hadn't even mentioned aliens.

Here, at her desk, she was starting to go cross-eyed searching through the same pages over and over again. She looked back at Castle's chair and pursed her lips, knowing exactly what she needed to get her head back on straight. She grabbed her phone and empty mug and escaped to the break room. Setting a fresh pot of coffee to brew she sat at the round table and pulled up his name in her phone contacts.

It rang three times before his voicemail picked up. Again. Kate had known it was a long shot to get a hold of him, but still her frustrated growl was released into the empty room as she hung up. No reason to leave a message when the notification of a missed call would be enough to get him to call back. Besides, if she had left a message it would have been filled with her grouchy, irritated attitude. Not something he deserved to hear when she'd missed just as many of his calls over the last two weeks.

"Yo, Beckett. We've got something."

At the sound of Esposito's voice she jumped up so fast her knee knocked the bottom of the table. She hissed in pain and hurried over to his desk where he was standing with Ryan. Finally a lead! She just hoped it didn't end up being useless like everything else they had run across so far.

"It's complicated so get comfy," Espo said as she walked up, pointing to the chair next to her.

Beckett rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest while she continued to stand.

"Suit yourself." He sat in his chair and gestured at Ryan to do the honors.

"So I was doing some thinking last night. These are good people. No priors, no shadowy relationships, no bodies in the closet, right? So why would someone want to kill their kids? That's a special kind of messed up – killing kids."

"Ryan. I know all of this. Get to the point."

"Beckett, I'm getting there. So anyway, no bodies in the closet. But is that the truth? I mean these are squeaky-clean people with dead kids. That's something that just doesn't happen. It's too clean. Impossible clean. Someone is lying, Beckett. But who? On a hunch, I pulled a new set of financials going back a full five years and I started looking into new purchases the Baker's had made. I'm grasping at straws here, I know, but I found something odd."

He grabbed a stack of papers and showed Beckett the highlighted lines. "So three years ago John Baker bought a brand new Aston Martin V8 Vantage S–"

"So?"

Ryan turned to glare at Beckett for her continued interruption.

"Sorry. Please continue. It's not like we're in a time crunch trying to solve a murder or anything," she said as she rolled her eyes again.

"So, the car is gone."

She stood up straighter, sensing the possibility of a new lead. "What do you mean 'gone'?"

"Like gone – gone. That's an expensive, fancy car that you aren't just going to leave on the streets, but the Bakers aren't paying rent on a parking space anywhere. Weird, right? So I went looking through DMV records first thing this morning and there's nothing for the plates. A month after he bought it, the registration was canceled."

"Well maybe he just decided he didn't like the car. Decided to get something else," Beckett interjected.

"Except there's no record of him selling it and he never replaced it."

"Hmm." Beckett tapped her chin with her index finger, thinking. "Okay, so how does this relate to the murder of his kids?"

Espo suddenly jumped up to join in. "That's what we've been working on this morning. He had no logical reason to get rid of a car like that. He could easily afford it and the insurance. I called him today to ask and he got really flustered. Came up with some half-assed explanation about how someone crashed into it. A hit and run. So then I asked why there was no insurance claim and he couldn't give me an answer. Just rambled on about how he didn't see the point since there was no one else involved."

"That doesn't make any sense at all. He could have had the car fixed or replaced."

"Exactly, so that's what we want to do next. We want to look at hit and run records around that time. See if he's telling us lies."

"What are you hoping to find?" Beckett asked, making sure they weren't setting themselves up for a wild goose chase.

Ryan jumped back in, "Well, what if there _was_ a hit and run only he wasn't the victim? Why would he avoid filing an insurance claim if he had nothing to hide? We're thinking maybe he hit something or someone but didn't want anyone to find out so he dumped the car to avoid any questions about what happened."

Beckett stood quietly and glanced at the records Esposito had handed her. She looked back up at the boys, their faces hopeful but hesitant, waiting for her permission to continue with their line of investigation. "Do it. Let me know what you find."

* * *

"So, what have you got?" Gates asked as she settled against the edge of Beckett's desk, her eyes roaming across the murder board. Over the last day and a half, Beckett and the boys had uncovered an intricate web of lies tying John Baker to a deceased sixteen year-old named Matthew McAdams and apparently Gates wanted a briefing before they would be allowed to arrest their suspect.

As Beckett attempted to smother her irritation at Gates' inconvenient request, she gestured to Esposito and Ryan to break down what had been discovered, since it had been their idea after all, and how it had led to the team checking hit and run records around the time Baker's car had disappeared. Esposito then explained his phone conversation with Baker and all the inconsistencies that had started to arise in the man's story.

Taking over from him, Beckett continued with the new facts they'd recently acquired. "We ended up finding a record of a boy named Matthew McAdams. He worked in a restaurant near the Baker's brownstone and he'd been riding his bicycle home after his shift one night. He never made it. His body was found here –" She circled a spot on the map one block south of the Baker's residence, "at five am by a homeless man that was just passing through. McAdams had been shoved haphazardly behind a dumpster with his bike tossed on top of him."

"Okay. What else?" Gates cut in, eager to get to the point.

Esposito picked up the story next, reporting, "The ME determined, based on his injuries, he'd been hit by a car and killed instantly. The bike also showed signs of being struck. CSU found prints on both the body and the bike but there was no match in the system. Paint and small metal shards were imbedded in Matthew's skin from the impact but the lab techs were never able to match them to a car type. CCTV footage was grainy at best so a positive ID on the driver was never made."

"So the killer walked."

"Yes. Sir."

"Alright so what makes you think Mr. Baker is the one responsible?"

Jumping back in, Beckett explained the rest of the story; that Baker's height and build was similar to the driver in the CCTV footage, how part of the car could be seen in the footage so they were able to tentatively match the body type, and the paint color of Baker's car was the same as the shards found in McAdams' body. "The only thing that's missing is a fingerprint match. So if we operate under the theory that Baker killed McAdams, we now have a motive for the deaths of the Baker children."

"How so?"

"Everyone associated with the McAdams case said that once they filed the case as unsolved, his father vowed that he would never let it go until the killer was caught. Even after the case was closed, he was constantly calling the detectives that had handled it, asking if anything new had been found and pushing their captain to reopen the case. So we looked into the financials for Mr. McAdams. A year after Matthew's death he started making regular payments to a man named Spike Coulson. He's a PI out of Harlem. We spoke with him yesterday and he confirmed that he'd been hired to look into Matthew's death. I guess he's a car aficionado and, when he looked through the CCTV footage, he recognized the section of the car that can be seen. Searched for owners in the area and found Baker. He drew the same conclusions we did, but without the actual car he didn't have any proof. When he had shared his findings with McAdams he was fired, told his services were no longer needed and that was the last he'd spoken to him."

"So you're thinking McAdams took revenge? You take my child, I'll take yours?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Where's the proof?"

"CSU had found a torn piece of fabric stuck to the window pane where the killer had entered the Baker's home, along with boot prints in the grass outside. I want a warrant to search McAdams' home for the matching articles of clothing. Also, Anna and Christopher, the two older children, put up quite a fight before their deaths. Skin pieces were found under Anna's fingernails and some foreign blood was found on Christopher's shirt. If McAdams was their killer the DNA will match. We just have to bring him in."

Beckett finally finished explaining the complicated web and Gates sat silently looking over the murder board again, mulling over everything she'd been told. The boys exchanged anxious glances when Gates stayed quiet.

"Sir?" Beckett asked softly to get Gates' attention.

Her face hardened as she moved to look directly in Beckett's eyes. "Bring him in. I want a confession on my desk today." She turned her back on the three detectives and went straight to her office without another word.

"Yes, Sir." Beckett replied to her retreating form. She turned to the boys and said, "Let's go."

* * *

By five-thirty that night Ryan and Esposito had arrested Marcus McAdams and Beckett had pulled a confession out of him rather quickly. They'd also arrested John Baker in connection with the accidental death of Matthew McAdams. Both cases were officially closed and Beckett congratulated the boys on a job well done. Without their abstract thinking two killers would have walked away without being brought to justice.

As they each settled at their desks with a fresh coffee, ready to begin on the large pile of paperwork associated with both cases Gates poked her head out of her office. "Beckett, Ryan, Esposito. Go home and get some rest. Deal with the paperwork tomorrow."

They exchanged glances and shouted, "Yes, Sir." Each grabbed their coats and they headed for the elevator as a team.

"Want to go to The Old Haunt for a drink to celebrate?" Beckett asked as they waited for the doors to open.

Ryan looked vaguely disappointed when he answered, "Oh, I can't. I feel like I haven't spent any quality time with Jenny recently. I really want to get home to her."

Beckett shifted her focus to Esposito as they stepped into the elevator and started to descend to the garage. "What about you, Espo? Or do you have a sudden desire to call on a certain ME we all know and love?"

"Hey, don't mock me. We do what works for us." Esposito glared at her for teasing.

"I know, Espo. Whatever makes you both happy. So, what do you say?"

"Nah. I actually do want to see her so I'm going to head home. Sorry, Beckett."

"It's okay. I understand. I'll see you both tomorrow." Beckett waved and then moved toward her car. She was disappointed to be heading home alone again but at least this time she didn't have the case hanging over her head. Deciding tonight would be all about relaxation and rejuvenation, Kate turned on the car and headed to the loft.

She called Castle on the way to let him know the good news but it went to voicemail, once more. Letting out a resigned sigh, she left a quick message. "Hey, it's me. Leaving a message. Again. Can I just tell you how much I hate your book tour right now? We broke the case so I'm heading home. Just wanted to tell you the news and hear your voice but I guess it'll have to wait for later. I'll call you when I get in bed if I haven't heard from you before then."

She hung up and tossed her phone onto the passenger seat. This damn book tour needed to end right now because she was completely over it. Over the distance, over the busy schedules and the missed calls. She was just ready for him to come home.

* * *

Kate entered the loft to discover it was dark and quiet. A bulb was lit over the stove illuminating a small section of the kitchen, but it wasn't strong enough to penetrate the shadows hanging eerily across the open living space.

She stopped just beyond the front door, removing her coat and dropping her bag while she stepped out of her heels. She stretched her feet and popped her toes against the wood floor when a small clacking sound – like typing on a keyboard – sounded from the office.

"Martha? Are you home?" Kate moved toward the room, noticing through the open bookshelves, a single lamp burning on the desk accompanied by the gentle glow of a computer screen. She eased the door open and saw the desk chair turned away from the doorway.

Silently, she entered the room wondering if her eyes were deceiving her. Over the top of the desk chair she could see a thick flop of dark, perfectly styled hair, a neck and just the top of broad shoulders that she would recognize anywhere. She'd studied them extensively over the last nineteen months; knew the ripple of muscle, the taste of sweat, the feel of his skin under her curious fingertips.

"Castle," she breathed out before going to him. She couldn't believe that he had surprised her by coming home early.

She rested her hands on his shoulders from behind, nuzzling her nose into the space behind his ear, placed a gentle kiss on the slope of his neck. Her hands slipped lower, circling around his neck, when the smell suddenly hit her nose.

Metal. Rust.

Blood.

Her fingers slid through the sticky substance. Standing slightly, she pulled her hand up into the light and tensed at the sea of red coating every finger, covering her palm completely.

"Castle?!" A choked sob left her throat as she turned the chair to see his face.

His blue eyes were frozen open, unseeing, pointed toward the ceiling. A gaping hole stared at her from his throat; the expanse of skin she had spent hours worshiping, tasting, learning was now sliced open, destroyed.

"No. No, Castle. Please." Tears streamed down her cheeks as she leaned in to cup his jaw, her fingers searching for a pulse but knowing she wouldn't find one.

Light, quiet footsteps sounded from behind but, before she could turn around, a needle pierced the skin of her neck and everything went black.

* * *

_Thank you so much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. _

_And thank you to Kylie for reading this chapter so many times to make sure my case details made sense. You rock, beautiful lady. xoxo_


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Castle felt the phone vibrate in his pocket; three times to indicate a phone call and once more to announce the voicemail. His eyes lifted to see the clock on the wall – just after six. He then shifted in his seat, taking in the long line of people stretching and circling though the bookstore. It would be a few more hours before he could get out of here for the night.

"Paula," he hissed after handing back the book he'd just signed.

She looked over her shoulder at the sound of his voice. "What?"

"I need a quick break." He turned his attention to the woman that had walked up and was handing over her book. "Hi, thank you so much for coming. Whom should I make it out to?"

"Heather, please. It's so nice to meet you. The picture on the back of the book doesn't do you justice. You're so much better looking in person." She batted her eyelashes and pushed her chest out when he looked up, handing her the now signed copy.

Paula whispered in his ear before he could respond. "Give me twenty minutes, Ricky."

He smiled at that and then twisted to face Heather again, sending her on her way. "Thank you. I hope you enjoy the book."

* * *

He raced to the rear of the bookstore in search of the bathrooms. On the way he pulled out his phone to check the missed call and almost slammed into someone coming around the corner of a book stack. "Sorry," he threw over his shoulder as he dodged the person and started the voicemail from Kate.

_Hey, it's me. Leaving a message. Again. Can I just tell you how much I hate your book tour right now? We broke the case so I'm heading home. Just wanted to tell you the news and hear your voice but I guess it'll have to wait for later. I'll call you when I get in bed if I haven't heard from you before then. _

He reached the bathroom just as the message finished and, pushing inside the door for some privacy, he chuckled at the obvious frustration in her voice as he muttered to himself, "You and me both, Kate."

After relieving himself, he went in search of a private space where Paula wouldn't think to look so he could call Kate back. He desperately wanted just a few minutes of uninterrupted time for them to talk.

Castle slipped into an unlocked storeroom, squeezing into the tiny space between the mop bucket and shelves of bathroom supplies, and selected her name in his contacts. His heart sank with each unanswered ring until her voicemail picked up. Hanging up the phone, he growled and punched a package of toilet paper. "Dammit!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose trying to work his frustration out over missing her again. To get himself under control he ran his fingers through his hair, taking several deep breaths and then pulled up his messages. He typed out a short text to her, hit the package of toilet paper again for good measure, and stepped into the public space of the bookstore once more.

The sooner he could get out of here, the better.

* * *

It was still dark when his alarm went off the next morning. He groaned, reaching out blindly to silence the obnoxious noise, and buried his face stubbornly into the pillow.

Lying there with his eyes closed, trying to decide if getting up this early for his flight was worth it, he suddenly remembered that he had never heard from Kate last night. He jumped up to grab his phone but there was no missed call.

His knee bounced a nervous rhythm while he dialed her number and listened to another set of unanswered rings and then finally her voicemail. "Kate? Please call me back when you get this. I'm worried that I didn't hear from you last night. I'm trying to tell myself you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, but you know me, I'm freaking out a little bit. Love you."

Hanging up the phone, he sat on the edge of the bed, knee still twitching, trying to decide what to do. It wasn't like her to forget to call when she said she would. However, it also wasn't unusual for her to sleep pretty hard right after finishing a particularly difficult case. He chewed his bottom lip and then decided waiting on her to call back wasn't an option.

His fingers moved over his phone again as his heart thumped in his chest, but thankfully, Esposito picked up on the third ring, "What?! The sun's not even up so whoever you are, you better make it quick."

"Espo?" Castle couldn't help the slight hint of nervousness in his voice and he hoped Esposito didn't notice.

"Castle? Dude, it's too early. Call me back in a couple of hours."

"No wait! Espo, I can't get a hold of Kate. Do you know where she is?"

"We closed the case yesterday. She's probably still sleeping. Which is what I'd like to be doing right now."

"It's not like her to not call me before bed, though. I'm just… Can you try calling her? Please? And I'll call my mother – see if she has seen her."

Castle heard shuffling and then a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lanie say _Javi, baby, what's wrong?_ Espo's quiet answer was muffled through the phone line, as though he was covering the microphone with his hand. "Nothing, chica. Castle is just being Castle. Go back to sleep."

There was silence for a moment before his voice came back over the line at full volume, "Alright. I'll call her but when she answers and everything is fine you owe me."

"Anything you want. I promise, 'Sito. Just call me when you know." The line went dead without even so much as a goodbye.

Not being put off, Castle dialed his mother's number next. "Richard, darling. Isn't it a little early for you to be up?"

"Good morning, Mother. I have an early flight." Before she could comment, Castle continued, "Have you seen Kate this morning? I'm having a hard time getting a hold of her."

"Oh, no darling. The office was dark and the door was closed when I left. Her bag was here, though, so I just assumed she was still sleeping."

"You aren't at home now to go check on her for me?"

"No. I just arrived at school for the day." There was a pause as Castle struggled with what to do next and, apparently sensing his internal battle, Martha remarked, "I'm meeting someone for lunch near the loft. I can stop there on my way back if you still haven't heard from her by then."

He debated with himself, trying to decide if it was worth worrying her, as well, and finally decided he wouldn't turn that rock over unless it became necessary. "No, Mother. That's sweet of you but I'm sure everything is okay. She's probably just still sleeping like you said."

"Are you sure? It's really no trouble."

"I'm sure. Thank you anyway."

"Alright, Richard. You just let me know if you change your mind. Also, if you hear from her first, so I don't worry."

"I will. I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye, darling."

"Goodbye." He sat on the edge of the bed staring at his phone, willing it to ring with a call from either Kate or Esposito. The silence was unnerving and grating on his already raw nerves.

Suddenly the theme song from _Bad Boys_ broke through the quiet, making Castle jump. He almost dropped his phone in his haste to answer. "Espo? You get her?"

"No, dude. She didn't answer for me either." Castle went to interrupt but Esposito jumped in ahead of him, "That doesn't mean something is wrong. I told you, she's probably just sleeping."

"Espo, you know her. It isn't like her to say she's going to call and then not do it. I'm worried."

He heard Esposito's sigh and waited, hoping that he would see the same logic.

Finally, Espo spoke, "Alright, alright. Look, we're all heading into the precinct today to finish the paperwork. I'll have her call you when I see her."

"Espo." He paused, knowing his request wasn't going to go over well. "I really can't wait that long. My flight to Maine leaves in four hours and I'll never be able to get on it if I still don't know where she is. I know I'm asking a lot but can you maybe go to the loft to see if she's okay?"

"Castle, man, she's fine."

"Espo, please?"

The detective's frustrated growl traveled through the phone. "Hold on a sec."

Castle waited silently, barely daring to breathe as he heard the muffled sounds of Esposito talking to Lanie again. When he came back on the line he said, "You so owe me for this when it turns out to be you freaking out over nothing."

"Anything you want. The Ferrari, courtside Knick's tickets. Anything. Just say the word."

"Give me an hour. I'll go over there to see what's up. What did your mom say?"

"She was already at work but the office was dark when she left and Kate's bag was there. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay. Do what you've gotta do today. I'll call you when I have something."

"Thanks, man. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, yeah." With that Espo cut the line and Castle was thrown back into silence.

He blew out a steadying breath trying to get his heart rate under control and settle the knots in his stomach. Despite Esposito's assurances he just couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

* * *

The first thing that slipped into her conscious mind was cold. She was cold.

Then the pain. Her eyes shot open as a sharp stabbing sensation shot through each of her arms. She looked up to see the image of her wrists bound with rope to a rusty hook hanging from the ceiling, a slow stream of blood dripping from where the rope had cut into her skin.

A single hanging bulb burned above her head illuminating a pool around her but casting the rest of the room in shadows.

She tried tugging on the restraints but, as expected, they wouldn't budge. She stopped moving to listen for any outside noise but all was deathly silent, meaning only one thing; she was outside the city and no one would hear her screams.

Suddenly a door slammed open and light from a hallway flooded into the room. A figure dressed all in black, a mask over their face, slowly moved toward her.

"Good. You're finally awake," the female voice said.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Kate fought against her restraints as the questions fell from her lips. She was about to ask where Castle was when she suddenly remembered the scene at the loft. Unbidden tears started to cascade down her cheeks. "Oh, god. What did you do to Castle?"

Abruptly, the figure moved directly in front of her and pointed a six-shot revolver right between her eyes. Kate froze as her captor cocked the hammer and then pulled the trigger.

* * *

_Thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews. Hopefully this chapter has eased some of the anxiety caused by the last chapter. :)_

_Special thanks to Kylie for all the laughs and the constant encouragement. You make my heart soar. _


	6. Chapter 5

_Previously…_

"_Espo." He paused, knowing his request wasn't going to go over well. "I really can't wait that long. My flight to Maine leaves in four hours and I'll never be able to get on it if I still don't know where she is. I know I'm asking a lot but can you maybe go to the loft to see if she's okay?"_

"_Castle, man, she's fine."_

"_Espo, please?"_

_The detective's frustrated growl traveled through the phone. "Hold on a sec." _

_Castle waited silently, barely daring to breathe as he heard the muffled sounds of Esposito talking to Lanie again. When he came back on the line he said, "You so owe me for this when it turns out to be you freaking out over nothing."_

"_Anything you want. The Ferrari, courtside Knick's tickets. Anything. Just say the word." _

"_Give me an hour. I'll go over there to see what's up. What did your mom say?"_

"_She was already at work but the office was dark when she left and Kate's bag was there. Nothing out of the ordinary."_

"_Okay. Do what you've gotta do today. I'll call you when I have something."_

"_Thanks, man. I really appreciate it."_

"_Yeah, yeah." With that Espo cut the line and Castle was thrown back into silence._

_He blew out a steadying breath trying to get his heart rate under control and settle the knots in his stomach. Despite Esposito's assurances he just couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong. _

* * *

Chapter 5

When Javier ended the call, he tossed his phone onto the nightstand and then turned over to curl around Lanie's naked body. He buried his nose behind her left ear and took a couple of deep breaths, inhaling the scent of her soap and shampoo, and something uniquely _her _underneath. His arms tightened around her waist as he muttered, "I hate that guy sometimes."

Lanie's quiet chuckle shook them both. "Don't lie. You'd be freaking out if it was me and you know it." She turned in the circle of his arms and smiled at the look on his face. His eyes were closed tightly, nose wrinkled in distaste, and lips turned down in a frown. She lightly pushed him away and said, "Come on, baby. Time to get up and put writer-boy's mind at ease."

Javi opened his eyes to watch her roll away, the way her legs swung over the side of the bed, her body as she sat up, and he couldn't help but extended a hand toward her. His fingertips traveled down the length of her spine as she arched her back and stretched her arms above her head, and he growled, rolling to look at the ceiling. "I really hate him sometimes."

Lanie released another soft laugh as she got up and disappeared into the bathroom, headed for the shower. She paused just inside the door and then poked her head back into the room to say, "You gonna lie there feeling sorry for yourself or do you want to come help me wash my back?"

He turned to see her seductive smile and wink before she retreated into the bathroom once more.

Starting at the empty doorway, he listened to her messing with the faucet, adjusting the water temperature, and debated ignoring both her and Castle in favor of more sleep. But when her irresistible voice called out, "Don't make me start without you, Javi," he jumped out of the bed and joined her in the bathroom.

* * *

By the time they reached Castle's building the sun had begun to rise and paint the city in blinding light. Lanie and Javier followed Eduardo to the loft's front door, joking with him about Castle's tendency to overreact.

"Thanks for doing this. I know he'll appreciate it." Espo told the manager as he unlocked the door and pushed it open for them.

"Of course. I'll wait here until you are all clear."

Esposito placed his hand on the small of Lanie's back, following her into the bright, sun filled living space. "Everything looks normal," he said to her as they traveled further into the room and looked around.

"I'll go check the bedroom. See if she's still sleeping." Lanie rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek and then turned, moving toward the closed office door.

"Okay. I'll just check things out here."

He was walking through the kitchen, noticing the empty sink and clean countertops when the sound of Lanie's desperate voice sliced through the silence of the loft and pierced his heart. He looked to see what was wrong as her body shot through the office toward the bedroom, her voice frantically calling Kate's name.

"Lanie!" Chasing after her, he rounded the corner into the office but stopped dead at the scene before him.

"Javi, tell me it's not him. It can't be him right? You just talked to him." Lanie's voice drew his attention away from the message on the wall and, when he looked at her, he saw tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Javi…" she started again but her voice broke and a sob left her throat as she turned to stare at the figure in the chair.

Castle's chest was covered in dried blood that had gushed from the gaping hole in his throat. His head was still pointed toward the ceiling; clear blue eyes wide open but unseeing. A message – _We'll meet again. Soon._ – was splashed in red, staining the staircase art on the wall behind his office chair. Behind him.

Already knowing the answer, he still had to ask, "She here?"

"No. I can't find her." Lanie's voice broke as tears slowly streamed down her cheeks, "Javi, what if –"

Espo shushed her and grabbed for her hand, dragging her out of the room. "No. No 'what ifs'. Go call it in and tell Eduardo that this is now a crime scene. I'll check the body."

"But, Javi –"

"Lanie," he put his lips against her temple and gently pushed her away. "Go call it in, baby. We'll figure out the rest after that."

Leaving her in the living room, Esposito retrieved the spare pair of gloves he always kept in his jacket pocket and walked back to the body. He stretched his fingers out to check for a pulse but the vein was still and quiet, the skin ice cold.

Not willing to waste another moment wondering, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Castle.

* * *

Castle stood in the airport Starbucks waiting for a fresh cup of coffee when Esposito's call came in. He moved away from the café noise, looking for a place that offered more privacy; a row of empty seats caught his attention as he answered the call. "Espo? What happened? Where is she? Let me talk to her."

"Castle, dude, calm down. Where are you?"

"What are you talking about? Espo, where is she?" His frantic voice got louder when Esposito refused to tell him what he wanted to know.

"Castle, where are you?"

He growled into the phone, "I'm in the airport. My flight leaves in a half-hour."

"What was the first case you and Kate worked on?"

"Esposito, are you serious?! Where is Kate?" He couldn't believe the question evasion Espo was pulling.

"Just answer the _damn_ question, Castle!"

"Okay, okay. Uhhh first case, Alison Tisdale, April 2009. Killed by her brother over Daddy's money. Now tell me what's happened."

"What's your favorite video game?"

"Madden."

"What did you ask me to do when she was having PTSD flashbacks during the sniper case?"

"To help her, to pull her out of the spiral so we could finish the case."

"Okay, okay. Castle, I need you to get back to New York. Next plane out. Get on it now. I can't explain over the phone."

"Javi, please tell me she's okay." He sunk into a nearby chair and dropped his head into his left hand as all the fight drained from his body. "God, Javi. Tell me she's not dead."

Espo sighed and then quietly explained, "I can't, man. I don't know where she is. I don't know what happened. Just get back here."

Without another word, Castle ended the call, letting the phone drop to the floor in front of him. He cradled his forehead within both of his hands and watched his tears; each one silently dripped off the edge of his nose and onto his jeans. Kate was gone. Kate was somewhere, maybe dead or alive. _Alone_, because he had abandoned her, left her without a partner, all for this stupid book tour.

"Are you okay, honey?"

He jumped. The gentle voice pushed through his panicked haze and he looked up into the face of an older woman, crystal-clear green eyes filled with compassion. "Do you need some help?" she asked.

He opened his mouth but no words formed as his mind raced through what needed to be done, he _needed _to get to the ticket counter so he could change his flight; he _needed_to get home. His hand reached down, grabbing his phone off the floor, before he used his sleeve to wipe both of his cheeks dry. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. Just received some bad news. I really, um, I have to get home. Thank you."

Castle stood and took off running toward the security lines, leaving her in his wake without a backward glance.

* * *

It took Castle over half an hour to change his ticket and get back through security en route to his new departure gate. His heart and mind were going round in circles and it took every ounce of willpower to settle down in a seat outside the gate. His flight was scheduled to leave at ten o'clock putting him back in New York just before noon. As far as he was concerned, that was too much time spent helplessly sitting and wondering where Kate was and whether or not she was still alive.

He needed a way to pass the time until his flight took off so he pulled out his phone to make the necessary call to Gina. The rest of his book tour had to be canceled – that was a no-brainer – but convincing his ex-wife that it was absolutely necessary might prove to be difficult.

She picked up on the second ring, "Rick? Why aren't you on your plane?"

He shook his head. All business as usual. "Gina, there's been an emergency and I have to cancel the rest of the tour. I'm boarding a flight back to New York in about twenty minutes."

"What? No way. You cannot do this to me. Your career isn't a joke, Rick."

Sudden bright, hot anger flared in his heart, the combination of emotions overwhelmed and temporarily blinded him as to who deserved the blame in this situation. "You think I'm joking? Kate's gone. Disappeared. Could be dead. This is not a negotiation, Gina. I'm going back to New York and that's final. Cancel the tour. Do whatever you have to do to make the fans happy – free books, reschedule, anything – but I'm going home to find my fiancée."

"Shit. Alright, Rick. I'm sorry. Of course, I'll do what I have to do. Good luck. Keep me up to date if you can?" Her voice was quiet and sympathetic, instantly making him feel like an ass for taking his frustration out on her. Gina may be career driven but she wasn't heartless.

"I'm sorry, Gina. I'm just worried. Obviously. Just – do what you have to do. Kate will always come before my career."

"I know. I know she does. Don't worry about a thing. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"Yeah. Bye." He hung up without waiting for her reply.

He couldn't sit still, the wait was too much, so he headed over toward the windows to observe the planes landing and taking off. He watched as they did their own dance of moving travelers here and there while his partner, his life and love, might already be lost to him forever. He rested his forehead against the glass sending up a silent prayer to any god he could think of to bring Kate safely home to him.

Losing her wasn't an option. Would never be an option.

* * *

_I'm sorry it took me a hot minute to get this out. Turns out it's important to know where your story is heading before you can sit down and write the words. :)_

_Thank you so much for all of your follows, favorites, and lovely reviews._

_And thank you to my extra special, awesome, wonderful, genius beta Kylie for all of the things. xoxo _


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